


Dana and Monica Investigate the SoHo Snowman

by ceruleanmilieu



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21888670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceruleanmilieu/pseuds/ceruleanmilieu
Summary: Scully and Reyes head to New York at Christmastime to investigate mysterious happenings in Manhattan. Written for the X-Files Secret Santa Exchange (2019).
Relationships: Monica Reyes/Dana Scully
Comments: 9
Kudos: 31
Collections: X-Files Secret Santa Fanfic Exchange (2019)





	Dana and Monica Investigate the SoHo Snowman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crescentmoon223](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crescentmoon223/gifts).



> Thanks to wonderful beta readers Sarie_Fairy and Kyouryokusenshi

**F.B.I. Basement Office**  
**Washington, D.C.**

Dana Scully’s low heels lightly tapped the off-white tile as she exited the elevator. The somewhat institutional color scheme and layout of the hall struck her as depressing. After nearly nine years of working in the basement, she still found the trek into the heart of the J. Edgar Hoover building a chore. It had been a long night and a desperate morning. William wouldn’t stop crying and she had a difficult time reasoning with him. Wishing she had at least felt guilty for being more than an hour late to work, Dana opened the door to her office.

The room was dusty and disheveled, and it had looked like that for years. The newer occupants of the office were wary about changing anything. Fox Mulder’s newspaper cutouts and head-shop poster hung on the walls still. The office held memories for her: many mundane, yet now precious.

Scully looked tired; she was without her usual latte in hand. The late nights and blurry mornings were hard, yet she looked utterly professional in her form-fitting black suit that hung off her shoulders like nothing else. The outfit contrasted with her starched white shirt, light skin and bright, growing hair. Sometimes she worried that she looked slightly gaunt, her features currently sharper than in her F.B.I. badge photograph.

The most recent addition to the X-Files division, Federal Agent Monica Reyes, stood with her hands on her hips, and looked up from the large stack of files.

“Morning, Agent Scully. Please sit down, I’ve got a really promising case for us to investigate.”

Scully returned the greeting, happy to speak with another adult.

Agent Reyes seemed even more upbeat than usual when in the company of her new partner, and Scully was slowly beginning to allow herself to rely on Reyes. She realized that this new friendship was a salve on the complexity that had become her life.

“I just received the files this morning, but I spoke with Agent Jeffries in the New York office last night,” Reyes said, beaming with shaky competence.

“That was quick, Agent Reyes. I must admit, I was hoping for a quiet week close to home,” Scully said before adding,“It’s in New York City?”

“Uh, there have been sightings around the SoHo and Tribeca neighborhoods in Manhattan,” Reyes replied.

“Sightings of what exactly?”

“Locals are describing an ambulatory snowman. It’s about six feet tall and white. At first, the police thought it was a prank.”

“Well, it sounds like one to me, too. What changed their minds?” Scully asked.

Agent Reyes picked up a VHS tape from the side of the desk and walked past Scully to the television set. “A tourist shot this footage on Tuesday.”

The tape began playing with an avalanche of analog snow. White and grey pulsing dots covered the screen until the visual noise transformed into actual snowfall. The jittery camerawork revealed a pre-teen boy wearing puffy winter gear approaching a misshapen snowman. The form of a man was apparent, but the creature definitely consisted of packed snow. Its eyes appeared to be dark crystalline spheres. The creature reached out to the boy, slowly at first. The video ended with an abrupt drop.

Scully’s right eyebrow rose and fell. “So, you want us to go to New York to track The Abominable Snowman?”

“I didn’t say it was The Abominable Snowman. That’s more like a yeti anyway. I said that there were reports of a snowman that moved and talked.”

“Oh, that’s completely different. This could be more of a ‘Frosty The Snowman’ situation,” Scully replied. She truly felt like the Scully of yesteryear when she pushed back on some of her new partner’s more outlandish theories. “And I’m guessing you don’t think it’s a trick, so what’s your theory? A bewitched pile of snow? Or, maybe a crystal alien?”

“I don’t currently have a working theory, but I don’t want to rule out a possession of some sort. It is almost the winter solstice, a time of great magical convergence,” Reyes said. “What do you think it is, Agent Scully?”

“It has to be teenagers or something, a hoax of some kind. They’re just jerking you around, Monica. It seems like since the New York field office found out about the X-Files, they’re always trying to shove their wild goose chases onto us.”

Cheerfully ignoring the statement’s content, Monica retorted, “Still, I think the video evidence is worthy of further investigation. And, it doesn’t appear to be doctored.”

“I wonder if it grants Christmas wishes, because I could sure use a couple.” A silence lingered until Scully spoke again. “Is this just an excuse to go somewhere even colder for the holidays?”

Monica, radiating an ethereal sense of tranquility, looked at her partner. “What? You don’t want to go ice skating at Rockefeller Center and see the gigantic Christmas tree all lit up? Plus, I seem to remember someone’s a pretty big pizza fan.”

Suddenly, Dana Scully was smiling harder than she had in weeks. “The last time I was in New York, I got shot.”

“I actually read that file, Dana. It was interesting, something about an immortal photographer—”

Dana interrupted, “Monica, I’m definitely not immortal. Not that I want to test that theory.” Her playful tone demonstrated a growing familiarity between the two women.

Monica thought of pressing the issue, her curiosity abounded, but decided against it. According to the case file, and common sense, that trip to New York had been somewhat scarring for Dana.

“Maybe you and Agent Doggett should take this case. I don’t know if I could leave William this close to his first Christmas,” Dana said.

“You know, Maggie would be thrilled to have him,” Monica offered, eager to convince her partner. “I don’t want you to think I’m crazy, alright, but maybe she and William could come with us. It’ll only be for a few days.”

Dana thought of Christmastime in New York and the complicated logistics of taking a baby on a 200 mile trip. It wasn’t her first choice of a working vacation, but she thought of her mother and son, and of Monica and the case.

“Maybe we’re both crazy. I’ll see if my mother wants to come with us,” Dana said. “I just really don’t want to fly.”

**Dana Scully’s apartment**  
**Georgetown, Washington D.C.**

Plans were worked out. Margaret Scully eagerly accepted the proposed vacation/baby-sitting gig with a keen sense of satisfaction in being needed. She relished her time with William, and still found herself surprised at the brusque change in Dana’s life. She had given up hope for a huge church wedding for her daughter years ago. It didn’t seem to be her fate. She couldn’t understand her daughter’s life, but she could love her grandson.

Maggie had expected a subdued holiday with Dana and William, because Bill Jr., Matthew and Tara were in Texas visiting her parents. She already missed them, despite spending all of Thanksgiving week with the growing family. The new holiday arrangements gave her something to look forward to. First, it would be a train ride, then all the wonders of a snowy Manhattan Christmas.

“What kind of case is it, Dana?” Maggie asked, in a conversational tone that was not entirely curious.

“It’s something that Monica would like to investigate,” Dana obfuscated, embarrassed to tell her mother that they were travelling to New York to find an animated snowman.

“You know, I really like Monica. She’s like a breath of fresh air, and she really cares about William.”

Dana appreciated the sentiment. “I like her too.”

**Big Apple Hotel**  
**New York City, New York**

The three women and a baby acquired two hotel rooms, connected by a door, with Dana and Monica opting to share a room. The train ride had been largely uneventful; William slept in Dana’s arms. However, all four seemed tired upon arrival. Monica yawned and dropped her luggage in the positively tiny room. In her travels with the X-Files, Monica had become acquainted with grubby motel rooms and their lacking amenities. It was just a place to sleep. The case came first.

“I’m going to head over to the field office to have a briefing with Agent Jeffries. We can meet up later to check out one of the sighting locations,” Monica said.

Dana nodded and knocked on the door to her mother’s room. She needed to feed William. Maggie opened the door and returned to wrangling the travel stroller.

“I want to get his portrait drawn in Central Park. He looks so adorable with his little mittens,” Maggie cooed.

“It’s going to be cold, Mom. Make sure to put his hat on too.”

“Dana, I know how to take care of a baby in the wintertime,” Maggie said. “You were a winter baby.”

“I know you do, Mom,” Dana said, as she lifted William to her chest. “Thanks for coming with us and helping with William. It really means a lot to me. And to Monica.”

Maggie nodded, astonished that her daughter was keeping it together as much as she appeared to be. She wondered how much of it was a facade, saddened that Dana was likely holding her at arms length. Maggie thought of Mulder, wherever he was, and not understanding why he hurt her daughter so much. She didn’t understand a lot of things lately.

**F.B.I. New York Field Office**  
**New York City, New York**

Agent Reyes didn’t know what to expect. She was slightly concerned that Dana was right, and they had only been called as a joke. Maybe the real F.B.I. agents wanted to gawk at the waste of taxpayer dollars that was the X-Files division. From her time working in New Orleans, she learned to ignore the doubters and assholes. The casework with Scully and Doggett was her new passion.

The field office lobby had off-white walls and intricate wood moulding encircling the ceiling. The platonic ideal of justice was in the musty air. Monica checked her wristwatch and continued waiting until a nondescript man in a gray suit approached. Agent Jefferies introduced himself with all the charisma of an IRS audit. He did, however, thank Agent Reyes for making the time to assist with the investigation.

“Do you have any additional witnesses, other than the man with the camcorder?” Monica asked.

“You and your partner can talk to the kid if you want. The guy with the camera left town yesterday. Him and the wife were only in town to see Cats,” Agent Jeffries said. “You got the tape, right?”

Monica nodded. “I passed it along to our graphics department in Washington. They’re going to analyze it, but it didn’t appear to be edited or otherwise faked.”

“This is weird, right?” Jeffries asked. He seemed genuinely spooked. “We’re up to 14 sightings in the last 3 days. No other video footage.”

“It’s definitely strange, Agent Jeffries,” Reyes said. “I’m glad that you called. My partner and I specialize in this kind of unexplained phenomena.”

“So, what do you think is behind this? The ghost of Christmas past?” he joked.

Agent Reyes grimaced. “Something like that.”

**SoHo**  
**New York City, New York**

The following day began with Dana debating taking a cab over the subway, but she figured that it wouldn’t necessarily be any faster with all of the traffic. The Canal Street subway station had off-white tile on the walls and a stained concrete ground. Dana mentally compared the dingy New York City subway with the significantly cleaner Washington D.C. Metro, determining that this had character. The anodyne D.C. Metro, however, felt grimy in its own way with the smarminess of the be-suited, political less-than-elite.

The sighting location was about three blocks from the subway station. She pulled on her black gloves and began walking to meet Monica. The neighborhood was upscale with posh shops and brownstones. One corner housed an expensive looking gym, and another had an art gallery with large helvetica letters on the floor to ceiling windows. She thought the area seemed relatively deserted for New York City with only a handful of pedestrians on the street.

Dana spotted Monica talking to a uniformed NYPD officer across the street and cautiously jaywalked to join them.

“—saw one of those things. He said it looked like a kid’s snowman mixed with a bigfoot,” the cop said. “But it wasn’t hairy at all. It was made of snow.”

Monica raised an eyebrow. “A bigfoot?”

“Yeah, kinda like the Jersey Devil. Have you heard about that one?”

“As a matter of fact, I have, Officer Thompson. Thanks for the info. We’ll head over to talk with the boy and his parents and see if he has any additional information.”

“It’s good that they called in the bureau for this. I can’t imagine our detectives cracking this one, considering it’s a monster made out of snow and not cocaine.”

The police officer said goodbye and went back to his squad car.

“How do you always find the crazy ones, Agent Reyes?” Dana asked.

“I could ask you the same thing, Agent Scully.”

The two walked in step over the trampled and filthy remnants of snow. Dirt and exhaust had defiled the purely frozen H2O on the ground, and Monica didn’t expect to find anything, but she wanted to do their due diligence. “The area has been too contaminated for any collection of forensics to be useful.”

Dana nodded. Monica waited until she saw a yellow cab and stuck her arm out. The cab pulled over to the curb and stopped. Dana was impressed with her technique.

“That was quick,” Dana said. “I swear every time I try to hail a cab they never stop for me.”

“Maybe they can see me better because I’m taller,” Monica said with a small grin on her face.

Dana resisted the urge to playfully smack Monica’s arm. She simply said, “You’re not that tall.”

**Smythe Residence**  
**SoHo**

“Hi Noah, I’m Special Agent Monica Reyes. This is Special Agent Dana Scully.”

Noah Smthye was eleven years old and freaked out. Dana couldn’t tell if his experience with the snow creature or their presence was the source of his concern. He jittered and looked toward his mother. The distressed boy’s dusty brown hair stuck out of his knitted beanie, and he wore a Pikachu t-shirt with a spaghetti stain on the front. Dana only knew what a Pokémon was because Langly had gifted William a stuffed Pikachu. She had thanked him for the stuffed animal, and he corrected her: it was a pocket monster.

“Hey, Noah, that’s a cool shirt. My son likes Pikachu too,” Dana said.

“What’s his favorite attack move? Mine’s thunder shock,” Noah replied, eager to talk about his latest obsession.

Dana didn’t know that Pokémon had attacks. “I’m not sure, but thunder shock sounds really powerful.”

Monica liked watching Dana make small talk with kids. Dana’s voice went up an octave and her features softened. Monica grinned awkwardly at Noah’s parents as they sat on the couch, grim looks on their faces. She could tell they didn’t know what to believe, and that they didn’t expect to have F.B.I. agents in their living room. It did seem like they had experience with an overactive imagination.

The family’s silver Christmas tree stood in front of the window in the four-story walk-up. It struck Dana as a retro choice and reminded her of holidays with her grandmother. The mid-century style of the metallic tree clashed with homemade ornaments, which ranged from action figures on fishing line to strands of macaroni.

“Monica and I would like to talk to you about what happened the other night,” Dana said with a quiet kindness in her voice. She worried that she sounded patronizing.

“I didn’t see anything, I swear. I just ran away,” Noah said.

“Okay. Did it say anything to you?” Dana asked.

Noah nodded his head. “It said ‘you’ll...’ but it didn’t say what I’ll do,”

Monica looked to Dana, confused by the boy’s statement.

“Oh, Yule. Noah must’ve hear ‘Yule’. Y-U-L-E,” Dana spelled out.

“Well, there’s a concrete connection to Christmas. Maybe Agent Jeffries was onto something with his spirit of Christmas comment,” Monica said.

Dana raised an eyebrow and excused the two of them from the family. They walked into the attached kitchen.

“This seems like a dead end, Monica,” Dana whispered. “I don’t think there’s anything he can tell us that we don’t already know.”

“If it weren’t for the tape, I’d say he imagined it, like something out of a movie,” Monica said.

Dana returned to the living room and handed Noah’s mother her card. “Please let us know if there’s anything else that Noah remembers.” She looked to the boy and added, “Noah, I hope you have a Merry Christmas, thanks for talking with us.”

They left the apartment and entered the drafty stairwell. “Well, what’s next? Our key eyewitness can’t help us track this thing down,” Dana said.

“I’ve been meaning to pick up a map,” Monica replied.

“I don’t think there’s going to be an abominable snowman labeled on it.”

“No, I have an idea.”

They descended the stairs and exited the building, greeting the cold with hats and gloves ready. Monica crossed the street with Dana at her heels. Dana asked where they were going and Monica had simply said that she had a theory on finding the location of the next sighting.

Walking into a corner bodega, Dana frowned when she saw a fluffy orange tabby cat sitting on top of an ATM machine. Monica was the cat person of the partnership, and Dana was the one with antihistamine tablets in her purse. She turned around and left the store. Monica quickly located a spinning display of NYC souvenirs and maps. Maybe Doggett would appreciate a refrigerator magnet or a beer koozie, she thought. She paid the man at the counter and exited the warmth to join Dana on the sidewalk.

Monica pulled a notebook and a black permanent marker out of her coat pocket. She opened the large map and placed it on top of a mailbox. She had a manic look in her eye as she cross-referenced the notebook and circled locations on the map.

“Look at this. I’ve marked all the locations of snowman sightings,” Monica said. Her fingers grazed Dana’s hand softly as she handed over the paper. They held the large folded map of Manhattan between them.

Dana looked down. “Is this right?” she asked.

The dark markings on the colorful and complex document formed a triangle and rectangle when combined greatly resembled a Christmas tree.

“I don’t believe it,” Monica said. “It’s a Christmas tree.”

“This could just be a coincidence,” Dana said, not believing it herself.

“That would be a pretty big one, Agent Scully,” Monica said. “There hasn’t been a sighting here.” She pointed to the top of the drawing. “We need to get to the top of the tree, where the star would be placed. That’s our best chance at finding this creature.”

“That’s quite an assumption, Agent Reyes,” Dana said. “How do we know the next sighting won’t be at the bottom of the tree, you know, where the gifts would be.”

Monica paused. She wanted to go with her gut feeling, so she reasoned, “There’s only one point at the top of the tree. It’s an easier location to find.”

“The last thing I want to do outside in December, in New York City, is sit on stakeout,” Dana complained.

“Technically, we’ll be inside the squad car,” Monica said.

Dana grinned at her colleague’s sense of humor. “I feel like I’m having flashbacks here.”

**Big Apple Hotel**  
**New York City, New York**

It had been a long day in New York for all four of them. Monica and Dana returned to the hotel. Dana asked her mother how her day in Manhattan went. She had missed William while working on the case and worried that he was too much for Maggie to handle in a big city.

“We went to mass at St. Patrick’s Cathedral and lit candles for your father and for Melissa. It’s really a beautiful cathedral. I wish you could’ve gone with us to see the stained glass windows,” Maggie said. “And then I took William to Central Park to ride on the carousel.”

“Wow, William, you sure had a fun day with grandma,” Dana enthused to the baby. She picked him up and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. “It wasn’t too tiring was it, Mom?”

“I’m alright, Dana. We did have fun. Didn’t we?” she added to William.

Monica smiled at the mother and daughter and their quasi-babytalk. She looked at three generations of the Scully family and felt like an interloper. It had been her idea to invite Maggie and William, but now she was unsure of her place in their dynamic.

Dana looked to her and wordlessly invited Monica to sit. They sat on the hotel bed and Dana handed William to Monica. Momentary insecurity aside, Monica figured she’d be an honorary member of the Scully clan after delivering William.

“Oh, he’s always so happy when you’re holding him, Monica,” Maggie said. “Look at that smile!”

Monica smiled too.

**Tribeca**  
**Franklin Street Station**

Monica promised it would only take a minute.

The packed subway car arrived at the platform with a screeching halt. Monica and Dana stood close with their hands on a pole for stability, and their hands brushed as they let go. Dana averted her gaze and accidentally made eye contact with another passenger. The two women exited the subway car and walked past a musician strumming ‘Tubular Bells’ on his acoustic guitar. The air felt moderately cold and slightly humid.

They walked through the turnstile and climbed the stairs, emerging into the overcast daylight. The chill in the air was still sharp. Winter was never Dana’s favorite season, even though she loved the Christmas revelry. She adored decorating the tree with her siblings while her Mom and Dad supervised, cocktails in hand. The family was so proud that Bill and Charlie were altar boys at midnight mass. Monica, on the other hand, loved to point out the Christmas was originally the pagan holy day of Yule. She had an appreciation for the elements.

Monica, nearly skipping, took Dana by the arm. “It’s a surprise...” she said as though she was a kid with a trick up her sleeve.

“Please, just tell me where we’re going,” Dana begged. “I feel like such a tourist, Monica.”

They walked about a block and rounded a corner. The red brick and concrete building loomed large on the street. Dana looked at the bright red door and up at the large letters reading ‘8 – Hook & Ladder – 8’.

“It’s a fire station?” Dana asked, confused.

Monica looked at Dana, yearning for a spark of recognition.

Suddenly Dana said, “Oh, it’s the _Ghostbusters_ firehouse. Monica, I can’t believe this is what you wanted to do in Manhattan.”

“C’mon, _Ghostbusters_ was the best,” Monica said. “‘There is no Dana, only Zuul!’” she quoted in a deep, demonic voice. She pulled a silver 35mm camera out of her purse and snapped a quick shot of the firehouse.

Dana sighed and then smiled. “I’m guessing you believe in ghosts?”

“Well, let’s just say I don’t not believe,” Monica replied. “Come here, let’s take a picture.”

They huddled warmly close for the snapshot as Monica held the camera at arms length. “Say cheese.”

Monica hoped she hadn’t cut off anyone’s head in the improvised picture and wondered if she should stop a fellow pedestrian for a better chance at an in-focus photograph. She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear and handed Dana the camera. “Take one of me.”

Dana looked through the viewfinder, seeing her new friend obfuscated behind smudged plastic. Monica beamed like a proud weirdo in front of the firehouse. She looked so pretty with her flowing dark hair, and Dana felt wonderment. This sense begat confusion in her.

“I could really go for a slice,” Dana said.

**SoHo**  
**New York City, New York**

Monica sat in the borrowed F.B.I. Crown Victoria with the heater on. She had added times and dates to the circled locations on the fold-out map. Noting that all of the sightings had been at dusk, she began their requisite stake-out at the theorized location of the next sighting at sundown. The black sedan billowed exhaust in a conspicuous manner on the quiet street.

Dana opened the car door with a finger, holding two hot drink cups with teetering precision. She handed Monica one and curled her hands around her cup of hot cocoa. “Do you have your handcuffs, Agent Reyes? We wouldn’t want our guy to get away,” she said. “I wonder if there’s a freezer at headquarters.”

Monica smiled. She knew that Scully could be skeptical, but she wasn’t fooled: the work was secretly her passion.

“How have you been lately, Dana? I mean really,” Monica asked. The change of subject sounded far more hurried than Monica had mentally planned.

“I’m okay... It’s hard sometimes,” Dana replied. “I knew I’d be alone with William. I mean, that was my plan with IVF, but sometimes you get lonely. I don’t know what to do.”

Monica looked so compassionate, her vision locked to Dana’s. And, she reached out to hold her partner’s hand. “I’m so sorry, Dana.”

“I know that I have my mother and I have you,” Dana said. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful for all of your help. And your friendship.”

“Dana.”

“My mother got a ticket to see Oklahoma on Broadway and she asked if we could take William tomorrow afternoon.” Dana could change the subject abruptly too. “I mean, you don’t have to do anything with us. Was there anything else in the city that you wanted to see?”

“I can help you with William, if you wouldn’t mind some company,” Monica replied. “We could go to FAO Schwarz or just relax at the hotel, if you want.”

“That sounds like a good idea, Monica,” Dana said, forgetting to specify which plan she preferred.

Suddenly, a white shape emerged at the edge of Dana’s peripheral vision, and she instinctively turned to see. The creature walked slowly, indifferent to the two F.B.I. agents. Dana flung the car door open and stood up. “Oh shit, it’s real.”

“What should we do?” Monica yelled, looking to her partner for guidance. She pulled the camera out of her pocket and ran around the car to join Dana. Dana stood still and held an arm across Monica’s chest to keep her from running into danger. Monica snapped photos until her camera made only a clicking noise. She worried that there wasn’t enough light. She worried about not being able to prove what was in front of her eyes.

Dana watched the creature for a moment. The eldritch horror of a spirited snow creature aside, she felt relatively safe, perhaps brave even. “So, we’re definitely not dealing with a ghost.”

The creature moved in a jerking manner, with little elegance, as was shown on the lo-fi quality tape. The stubby legs almost dragging on the cold ground appeared to be a drunken stupor. Its dark and rocky eyes were piercing.

Dana surveyed the area for an idea, any idea that could help in this cryptid circumstance. She thought about hitting the creature with the objective to determine its consistency, not to damage it, as it appeared to be peaceful.

This is less creepy in person than on tape, Dana thought. She jogged past the creature, careful not to slide and fall on the icy pavement. Grabbing a lid off of a metal trash can, she unleashed a flurry of snow as she lifted it. Each step brought her closer to the mystery, and she wielded the makeshift weapon with an uncertainty.

She didn’t have a plan; she had a stomach full of hot cocoa and cold hands. Her uncertainty in her course of action grew as she lifted the lid and lightly made contact with the creature. It was barely a tap, but Monica whooped as if it were a WWF wrestling move. Dana’s spiked adrenaline kept her warm.

Up close, Dana could tell the creature wasn’t made of snow, but an extremely similar compound, as it reflected oddly underneath the streetlight. She reached out and touched the creature with her bare hand. It met a surface that was not colder than the surrounding air. And, the crystalline pattern of the faux-snow had an almost plastic sheen.

Monica spotted two young men standing behind a car watching them. They appeared to split their attention between surveilling Agent Scully and arguing in the way that two people did when they didn’t want to become the center of attention. They hissed incomprehensibly at one another, and it struck Monica as odd. Maybe not as odd as the snowman, but still odd, she thought.

“Hey!” she yelled, closing the distance between them. “This is an official F.B.I. investigation.” She held her badge up as she got closer to what they were fighting over.

The boxy device looked like a radio controller for kid’s race car.

“Don’t touch it!” yelled the man with a goatee at the man with a moustache. He twisted himself away from his compatriot’s flailing hands. Their non-paranormal appearance coincided with the creature’s movement halting. The still monster stood on the sidewalk, and Dana gave it a final poke.

She looked to Monica and the men with a growing sense of understanding. “You’re controlling this.” She gestured toward the creature. “With that device.”

The man with the moustache nodded, and adjusted his green wool beanie. His wispy facial hair looked out of place on his young face. “I didn’t think that the F.B.I. would begin investigating us. But, this is so cool,” he said. “Are we going to get on America’s Most Wanted for this?”

The other man cracked a knuckle. “Shut up, you dipshit. Now we’re busted. Nico isn’t going to like this.”

“Why wouldn’t he? We’re gonna be on the news. This is perfect.”

Dana sighed and turned to Monica. “So, hoax busted.”

“Whoa, it’s not a hoax. It’s called guerrilla marketing,” the moustachioed man said. “That robot snowman cost a lot of money, and you almost fucked it up with that trash can lid.”

Dana gave the young man a stern look and wondered if she left the handcuffs in the Crown Vic. “Shut up. You could be charged with criminal mischief, you know that, right? Why do this? Why pull a hoax with a fake snowman?”

Monica rubbed her hands together. She had a desire to get in out of the cold. It wasn’t a supernatural possession or otherwise paranormal circumstance and her interest waned.

“The whole point is to get people talking. Theorizing,” the other man said with a sense of certainty. “We programmed it to say a couple dozen Christmas sayings.”

“Why wouldn’t it say what you’re advertising? This doesn’t make any sense,” Monica said.

“It’s supposed to be a mystery. The authenticity is what’s valued. The minute someone figures out it’s an ad, we’re done.”

Both women looked confused at the mad mens’ reasoning. But, it was too cold to continue the street interrogation. “We’re gonna take you two down to the F.B.I. field office,” Monica said. “You’re not under arrest. We just need to take down your statements about this stunt.”

Monica took the controller and pointed to the police car. After she gently nudged the men, they exchanged frustrated looks and began to walk.

“Be careful with that,” he said. Monica opened the rear passenger door and motioned for them to get in.

“I can’t believe we’re in an episode of _Scooby Doo_ ,” Dana said with the weight of her life and her choices on her shoulders.

“It’s really more like _A Christmas Story_ , with the decoder ring.”

Dana raised an eyebrow.

“You know? ‘Be sure to drink your Ovaltine.’ Little Orphan Annie,” she said.

Snow began to fall. Monica looked up to see a peaceful torrent of the large fluffy stuff. It filled her vision, and somehow, this snowy night seemed more magical than ever, here with Dana. Invigorated by the chill in the perfect air, Monica took a step closer to her partner.

Dana reached out to hold Monica’s arm. “I’m sorry that the snowman was a hoax. It would’ve made for an interesting article for some journal. Cryptozoology Monthly or something.”

“Well, it was an impressive robot. Maybe The Lone Gunmen would like to write about it.”

They walked away from the police car to continue their conversation. Maybe their nerves would get to the two in the backseat, and they’d give up the name of their sponsor.

“I’m kind of glad those hipsters built a robot snowman. Nobody was hurt, and it let us spend this Christmas in Manhattan…together,” Dana said.

“You were right. It wasn’t an X-File.”

“Well, we had to investigate to find that out.” Dana looked her partner with a sense of wonder in her eyes. “I don’t know how to thank you for being such an amazing friend to me and to William.”

“Dana, I care about you, too,” Monica replied, with the word ‘friend’ on her mind. “I really like you.”

Dana blushed, and her eyes narrowed. She didn’t know what to do. But, she knew that she was exhausted at fighting her private feelings. She didn’t like feeling confused, yet her fluttering heart told her to do something.

She didn’t.

Monica pulled her hand out of her black winter glove and gently caressed Dana’s flushed cheek. The contact was unhurried, yet startling.

“Oh, cold,” Dana said. Each finger felt frozen, and the unexpected touch stirred her. She was hesitant to react.

“Sorry.”

“I’ve never done this before. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know what to do,” Dana said, speaking her confusing truth.

Monica looked down into Dana’s steady eyes. Their height difference felt natural, like they fit together perfectly.

“Dana,” Monica said. She dropped her hand and Dana grabbed it.

Dana felt a flutter of desire and stood tall; her lips hovered over Monica’s for only an infinitesimal moment. She kissed Monica, slowly and with precision. Dana’s silken lips were met with eager devotion. Her hand grew warm in Monica’s, and her nervous energy dissipated. The kiss continued, accelerated yet soft. Monica smelled so beautiful, so feminine. It was a hint of vanilla that Dana detected.

She pulled back. Her nose was cold, yet her ears burned under her knitted cap. The snow falling accentuated Monica’s hair, and Dana felt self-conscious. She had kissed her partner. In public. They might as well be miniaturized in a New York City snowglobe.

“I’m sorry,” Dana said, not knowing what to say.

“Dana, we’re okay,” Monica replied with a calming voice. “I liked it too.”


End file.
